


Cold Front

by creampuffer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cold Weather, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, shameless schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creampuffer/pseuds/creampuffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is freezing. Luckily Derek is there to help warm him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Front

**Author's Note:**

> This is just some quick schmoop because it's been so damn cold here lately and i wanted some cuddle fluff. this is completely unbeta'd/seen by anyone so don't mind any errors. also, for some reason i tend to get a bit run-ony when i write stiles apparently?  

 

_“And now on to the weather. Jim?”_

_“Thanks Tom. We’re experiencing record lows across the county - “_

“No shit.” Stiles turned off the TV and threw the remote on the cushion next to him. But freeing his arm to do so let in cold air and sent him shivering all over again.

Why couldn’t the Alpha Pack have waited until spring to attack any and all involved - no matter how insignificantly - with Derek? Middle of winter and Stiles’ house had broken windows everywhere that needed fixing. Stupid inconsiderate jerk werewolves coming to Casa Stilinski and trashing it like they were some 80s hair band rock stars in a hotel room. Did they even stop to think about how much it would cost to fix all the damage they’d inflicted? Of course not. And they couldn’t now even if Stiles wanted them to.

Because they were dead.

Ha. Ha.

Stiles couldn’t continuously blast the heat because _money doesn’t grow on trees, son_ and Scott was at Allison’s after he and Mr. Argent had come to some weird truce that meant the man wouldn’t try to kill Scott every time he so much as sniffed in Allison’s direction. So Stiles was left huddling for warmth on his couch under every spare blanket he could find. Plus two hoodies, a hat, gloves and a scarf. He was still cold.

“Are you trying to smother yourself?”

He didn’t jump, but mostly because he was weighed down by all the blankets. Stiles freed his face enough so that when he asked, “what do you want, Derek,” he could see his breath.

“Thought I’d stop by to check up on you.”

“How thoughtful of you.” Stiles rolled his eyes slowly before settling his gaze on Derek. “Jesus, dude, aren’t you freezing your furry little balls off?”

Because the man, werewolf, whatever, was walking around in jeans and the saddest excuse for a sweater Stiles had ever seen. Just looking at Derek made him shake all over.

“Furry balls? Really?”

If Stiles wasn’t so cold he’d be blushing. He shrugged and looked away. “You know what I mean.”

“Mhm. Right. Well, to answer your question, I’m not freezing.” He picked up the TV remote and sat down where it was. “And for the record? My balls are not little.”

Anything Stiles had been thinking of saying quickly vanished from his mind at Derek’s words. It was quiet for several seconds as Stiles desperately tried not to think about Derek’s balls. It really wasn’t working, though; and he grew more and more uncomfortable and hot around the collar. Which, _hey_ kind of the only good thing to come out of being embarrassed by picturing your sort-of-werewolf-friend-who-is-super-hot naked because, _hello_ , freezing.

Stiles started fidgeting under the blankets, praying Derek would say something Stiles could latch onto in order to break his discomfort.

“Werewolves run hotter than humans.”

If they all looked as good as Derek then hell yes they did. _Dammit, not helping_!

“We can withstand colder temperatures.”

“Is that why you’re always so quick to start impromptu strip teases before running off into the woods half naked?”

Apparently nerves shut down his brain to mouth filter even more. Because why. _Why_. Why did he _say_ that?

“What.”

“Anyway,” Stiles continued as if he hadn’t just said that, “must be nice. The extra body heat,” he said at Derek’s raised eyebrows.

“I suppose so.”

Stiles expected Derek to say more, though really he wasn’t sure why because Derek wasn’t a talker. They sat in silence for way too long, Derek idly toying with the remote while Stiles sat frozen - almost literally at that point - next to him.

“You checked up on me,” he finally said, no longer able to stand the quiet. “So you can go now, if you’d like.”

Derek nodded. Then he stood up and turned to look at Stiles.

“I hope you don’t mind me not seeing you out...” Stiles trailed off with a wave of a hand at his nest of blankets. It, unfortunately, let in the cold. He shivered violently.

Derek’s eyes caught the movement, narrowing minutely. He nodded again, but instead of walking to the door he stepped closer. And then he was grabbing at Stiles’ blankets, yanking them away as if their job of warming up Stiles was offensive - which, _hey_! - and trying to hold on to them was doing nothing for Stiles.

“Excuse you!” Only it came out more stuttered because it was _fucking freezing_.

“Shut up, Stiles.”

And before he could take offense to that, Derek was sitting down again; really, really close and wrapping his arms around Stiles like the most awkward hug possible. Because Stiles had no idea what he was doing.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re cold. I’m hot.” There was a silent _duh_ tacked on to the end there.

“But -”

“Stiles. Just let me.”

He would’ve protested further but Derek really was so deliciously warm. He was plain delicious too to be quite honest. But the more pressing matter was the warmth. Speaking of warmth and pressing...

Stiles could feel heat all along his side from the way Derek’s chest and thigh was pressed against him. But it left the rest of him colder than before due to the crazy contrast in temperature. He tried to sneakily shift closer, turn so more of his body was against Derek. It must not have been as sneaky as he’d hoped because Derek let him go.

“Oh.” Guess he pushed his luck.

Derek wordlessly grabbed the blankets with one hand, shifted Stiles so was draped on top of him with the other then wrapped them both in the blankets. The heat was so intense, so immediate, Stiles was unable to resist the full body shudder or the soft groan.

“Better?”

“Much.”

And huh, his lips were really close to Derek’s neck. If they brushed the skin there while saying, “thank you,” he couldn’t be blamed. Not really.

Derek shivered. Stiles smiled and opened his mouth to see if he could elicit the same response. A hard grip on the back of his neck had Stiles stopping.

“Shut up.” It came out more fond than anything else.

“Okay. This is me...shutting up.” He pursed his lips just barely enough to touch softly against Derek’s neck again.

Derek let his hand trail slowly from Stiles’ neck down his spine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“This is nice,” Stiles chanced. Not just the warmth, he thought, hoping Derek understood.

“Yeah. It is.”

And judging by the way Derek pulled Stiles even closer, he thought Derek got it.


End file.
